CTE Crisis: AFL Faces Existential Threat After Four Corners Exposé
Monday's ABC Four Corners episode delved into the life and death of Nick Lowden, who at 23 became the youngest footballer diagnosed with chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE). The disease, first identified in boxers nearly a century ago, affects participants in collision and combat sports, as well as soldiers and domestic violence victims. Lowden's mother recalled his desperate pleas: “Why am I like this? What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with my brain?”
The most harrowing accounts often emerge in the flat, neutral tone of coroner’s reports. John Cain’s inquest into the death of Shane Tuck, a former Richmond player who died by suicide, documented in 408 subheadings the devastating impact of CTE on the brain, athletes, and their loved ones. The Tuck and Lowden families described young men who didn’t understand their own deterioration, who fought using their athlete’s instincts, and who eventually retreated. Nothing about a footballer has been as crushing as Cain’s detached description of Tuck’s final 24 hours.
Grassroots Impact: The Hidden Toll Beyond Professional Ranks
These tragic stories typically involve professional or semi-professional players. However, the impact at the grassroots level is harder to gauge and mitigate. Lowden was no park footballer; he first suffered a serious concussion in the TAC Cup, Australia’s premier under-18 feeder competition. He went on to win a premiership in the strong SANFL, but there are dozens of tiers below that. As the standard drops, so does the quality of grounds, umpiring, and access to medical help. Many country clubs operate on increasingly thin margins, and those running clubs in the suburbs or bush report a growing disconnect with the AFL.
Peter Hanlon covered this in a feature series for The Age on the 40th anniversary of a notoriously violent country grand final between Colac-Coragulac and South Warrnambool. Hanlon described the game as “outrageously violent” and interviewed men who have battled mental health challenges in the decades since, along with their increasingly concerned families. “For every Danny Frawley and Polly Farmer,” he wrote, “there are thousands who endured multiple concussions in the suburbs and the bush who are pondering a frightening thought – what if that’s me?”
AFL’s Response Under Scrutiny: Words vs. Action
The questions posed by Four Corners mirror those from grieving parents, coroners, litigants, and broken men in their 40s and 50s: what is the AFL’s level of responsibility and culpability? Is it responsible for the entire junior, suburban, and country football ecosystem? For incidents from 40 years ago? For educating every parent about head trauma?
What is beyond dispute is that the AFL has been too slow to act on CTE dangers. For nearly a decade, its concussion guidelines were shaped by Dr Paul McCrory, who in 2016 dismissed “the carry on and hoo-ha” around CTE. Before being exposed as a plagiarist, he led a multimillion-dollar AFL study into concussion criticized for “a lack of governance, stewardship and coordination”. On Four Corners, AFL general manager of health and football operations Laura Kane stated the league still lacks a CTE policy but claimed commitment to research. Many of Cain’s coronial recommendations were “on track”, she said, adding that “repeated head trauma is extremely undesirable”.
These well-thumbed words came from a league aware that lawyers are circling. They should have been spoken by CEO Andrew Dillon. The words were inadequate not only on a human level but in addressing the wider existential threat the sport must confront. While concussions can have serious consequences, it’s the accumulation of microscopic brain damage from bumps and tackles that leads to CTE. Lowden, who started playing at six, could have had CTE even without ever experiencing a concussion.
Prevention Strategies: Reducing Exposure to Head Trauma
Neuropathologist Michael Buckland calls CTE a “disease of exposure”. He told Four Corners that prevention requires reducing exposure, “just like skin cancer and the summer sun”. This means significantly reducing contact training hours and increasing the age at which young players are allowed to tackle—measures likely to meet considerable resistance. Boston University’s Ann McKee, a world-leading CTE expert, advocates banning tackling until adulthood. While many neurologists disagree, most concur that starting contact sport later and having fewer, shorter matches at senior level is essential. These measures conflict with the AFL’s commercial imperatives.
Much of the AFL’s focus has been on head injuries at the elite level. But nearly three-quarters of a million people play some version of Australian rules football—from Auskick to thousands of junior and senior clubs nationwide. Kane stated: “Our job is not to communicate every single aspect of risk that exists in our game.” She is correct, but a 23-year-old with CTE violently shifts the parameters and risk profile. This is no longer about 60-year-old former champions at risk of dementia, or tinkering with professional rules. It’s about whether the sport is inherently unsafe for all who play it. Many parents, former players, and the community are asking this question. The AFL failed to answer it properly on Four Corners, and may soon have to answer in a courtroom.
